


The Blond From Polytech

by deakysbass



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Band Fic, Brian is mourning his cat, Comfort, Drunk Sex, Everyone Is Gay, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay, Gay Sex, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Sex, Smile, Smile Era, Smut, very brief mention of death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-10-17 12:21:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17560307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deakysbass/pseuds/deakysbass
Summary: Prompt taken from http://otpprompts.tumblr.comA one night stand turns into an awkward encounter.Roger and Brian have a wild one-night-stand, which turns a little awkward when Roger shows up to an audition. Things evolve from then on.---Due to popular demand, I am continuing this story.





	1. Chapter 1

It wasn’t an unusual night for Roger. Him standing at a bar, scanning the room for his next prey, eager to drag them to his loft and have them gone by the time the clock strikes midnight. This was simply routine, but not boring one at that.

 

He was casually leaning against a wooden post, drink in hand, when he walked in. The most beautiful man he had ever seen. Not only was he obscenely adorable, he was also incredibly tall and stood out amongst the crowd due to his brown, flat-ironed wavy hair.

This lanky figure immediately caught Roger’s interest and he knew that this was the man that would be coming home with him that night. He didn’t care whether he was straight or not, one way or another he would be in his bed. Roger just had that effect on people.  
  


Roger watched the man walk over to the bar, order himself a drink, then slowly sink into one of the bar chairs. He didn’t seem to be waiting for anybody, and definitely did not seem interested in anyone from the crowd. This was going to be his lucky night.

 

The blond man downed his drink, and made his way to the bar, walking with all the swagger that a man like him could muster up. He was good looking, sure, but at the ripe old age of 19, Roger Meddows Taylor was a twink at best. He knew that he was not intimidating and definitely did not seem like one to flirt the way he did, but it did not mean his attempts weren’t paying off. His disheveled blond hair and mesmerising blue eyes gave him an advantage over most men, and even most women. He was pretty and he knew exactly what kind of power that held.

 

“Hey there handsome.” He smiled, sinking into the seat next to this mysterious man. The man turned to him and smiled a tight lipped smile, nodding his head in acknowledgment. Roger batted his eyes at him and ran a hand through his blond locks. “What’s your name?”

“Brian… and you?” this mysterious Brian seemed confused by Roger’s mere existence, but definitely interested.

“I’m Roger. It’s nice to meet you.” he extended his thin hand towards Brian for him to shake.

Brian smiled and shook it eagerly, “Oh my, I’m sorry. I thought you were...never mind.” he chuckled awkwardly and shook his head.

“What? Do I remind you of an ex-boyfriend or something?” Roger laughed along with him, his ulterior motives poking through the tone of his question.

“No, an ex-girlfriend of mine actually!” Roger cringed a little at the word. “Damn, I need to bring out the big guns for th-” his train of thought was soon interrupted by Brian’s dulcet voice, “Well, I don’t think you can really call her a girlfriend, it only lasted a week!” he shrugged, taking another sip.

“Why? What happened?” Roger inquired, scooting over closer to the brunet, “I don’t mean to pry-”

“It’s quite alright… Well, we had been best friends and decided ‘Hey! Maybe it’d be fun to date!’, so we gave it a go. But very soon we both realised that we were just using one another as beards, so we broke it off.” He stated as a matter of fact, a smile playing at his lips, before taking another sip. He looked at Roger through the corner of his, looking for the reaction he wanted. He was playing now too.

 

Roger knew he was in, all he needed now was a way to get this gorgeous man up to his flat. “Well, how about I buy you a drink and we celebrate your coming out?” He smiled, calling over the barman.

“Aye, I’ll take another drink.” Brian smiled, finishing off his glass, “I’ll gladly take anything you give me.” he mumbled under his breath, cheekily.

“Huh?” Roger feigned his confusion.

“I said: a Guinness for me, thanks!” Brian smiled devilishly, looking up at Roger through his fringe.

“Right...” Roger rolled his eyes and smiled. This was going to be easy. He turned to the man behind the bar, “One pint of Guinness, and the usual for me, ta.” he licked his lips and winked to the barman. The man blushed and went about filling their glasses.

“Here you go, Rog. It's on the house.” the young man smiled shyly, and earned himself a tip from Roger.

 

Brian was now visibly confused. Roger had turned the tables on him by making him have to win Roger over. This was a game of cat and mouse that Roger loved all too much. Something about the power play just...excited him.

Brian straightened up in his chair, brushing his hair behind his ear, “So, Roger... do you come here often?”

“Every night.” he shrugged, seeming almost indifferent to Brian now. “I live right next door, so after classes I usually end up here.” he motioned with his glass in hand.

Brian nodded, biting his lip, “Well you're lucky, I live so far that if I left now I wouldn't be home 'til morning.”

“That's too bad... maybe you should look into getting a flat closer to your uni. Where do you go anyways?”

“Imperial College.”

“Ah, I'm a East London Polytechnic man, me self.”

There was a pause as the men took a sip, looking anywhere but at one another.

“I…. um, I have been meaning to check out some flats around here, do you recommend any in particular?” Brian said, hesitant in face of the power change.

Roger smiled to himself, looking up at the tall man and batting his eyelashes, “You could come check out my flat if you'd like an idea of what it's like.”

Brian smiled devilishly, looking deep into the blond's eyes, “I'd love to.”

Roger knocked back his drink. This was going to be a great night.

 

One way or another the two men ended up in Roger’s apartment, both drunk but very aware of what this would entail. Roger gave the tall man the tour he promised, showing him around his humble home.

“Bathroom, pretty standard. Shower, bog, sink.” he opened a different door than the one they came in through, and stepped in, “Most flats here have connecting bathrooms into the bedroom, which is annoying if you keep a messy room and chose to have guests over, but oh well…” he shrugged, bending over to pick up a shirt and fling it into his open suitcase. Brian took this as an opportunity to ogle his plump ass, blushing slightly when he realised Roger was looking back at him.

“And I’m guessing this is where all the magic happens.” Brian said in a faux-smooth voice, trying to recover from being caught.

“Here?” Roger gestured at the room, “No… my conquest never get to see my room.” He smiled, aimlessly moving around the room, pretending to clean up. “The kitchen or the sofa? Yes. The shower, if they’re lucky. But never my bedroom.” He smiled, throwing a piece of cloth toward the suitcase.

Brian caught it in mid-air, unfolding the red underwear and holding it up to his face. Shame gone, his face was blooming with lust. “I guess I’ll be the exception to that rule.” he smirked, making his way to Roger, pinning him against the wall. “Have any more I could break?”

“I don’t sleep on the first date…?” Roger whispered, looking up at the man towering over him.

“Bullshit.” Brian squinted, loving the fact that Roger was still playing the game. He licked his lips, and tilted his head, taking aim before attacking Roger’s lips with his own.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS A SKIPPABLE SMUT CHAPTER! IF YOU DONT WANT TO READ IT, THAT'S FINE! IT WON'T MATTER TO THE STORY <3   
> Enjoy... or don't. Whatever floats your maylor boat

Roger moaned into the taller man's mouth as their tongues danced. Brian's towering figure kept Roger pinned against the wall, writhing under him in attempt to get more contact. Brian took charge and worked on stripping Roger of his shirt as fast as he could, almost ripping it off.

He pulled away, drawing a whimper from the short man, and looked him up and down languidly. “You look absolutely... fuck-able.” he groaned.

Roger's breath caught in his throat knowing that Brian's lust blown eyes mirrored his own, his lips trembled in anticipation.

“Too bad you don't fuck on the first date.” he smirked, gently shoving Roger against the wall before walking away.

 

Roger's face dropped, anger bubbling away in him. He was done playing games.

“Oh no, you fucking don't.” Roger straightened up, stalking behind Brian “Don't fucking walk away from me.” he reached out and grabbed his wrist, spinning him around to meet his lips in a violent kiss. He pushed him onto the bed and straddled the taller man.

As Roger pinned him down, Brian was hard at work trying to rid himself of his jeans. Damn the late 60s and their skinny jeans!

 

Once they were both unclothed and writhing against one another, tongues exploring each other's bodies, the air started filling with lewd sounds.

Roger was still straddling Brian's lap, rubbing their throbbing cocks together as he rocked back and forth, while Brian was clawing at his back, leaving red streaks under his rough, calloused hands. He was so needy and desperate for that sweet orgasm, and with one swift move, he pressed Roger into the mattress, his ass sticking in the air, just begging to be taken.

“Got any lube?” he growled, pulling on Roger's hair to make him turn his face.

Roger moaned at the rough touch and responded, voice shaky, “Bedside table.”

Brian kept his hold on Roger's mane while he leaned over him to grab the bottle, stopping to leave a bite mark on his sweaty shoulder.

 

Sensing Roger's equally strong desire, Brian settled on roughly shoving a lubed finger in completely, before slowly adjusting and relaxing the tense muscle. Roger stifled a scream, and shoved his sheets in his mouth to keep himself from making any further noises. The taller man continued to aggressively finger-fuck Roger's ass, getting him really worked up and bucking his ass onto them, looking for more.

“You ready for me?” he growled in the blond's ear, voice low and gravely, slowly pulling the makeshift gag out of his mouth. Roger coughed, his throat dry and sore.

“If you make me wait a second longer-” he was interrupted by Brian's cock sliding deep into him, “FUCK!” he screamed. Brian's cock might not have been as thick as Roger's, but by God was it big! It could reach places Roger didn't know existed.

 

Brian built up a rhythm of thrusting hard and fast into the younger man's ass, coaxing groans and moans out of him. Usually the tall man would consider himself a gentle lover, but something about Roger had ignited some kind of animalistic passion in him, and he was riding that wave of confidence.

His mouth found a permanent settlement on the blond's shoulder. Biting, nipping, licking, kissing, and sometimes reaching to leave a couple marks on his neck. Roger was nearing his orgasm as Brian pounded him into the mattress, rubbing his raw cock into the sheets.

 

As his orgasm neared too, Brian straightened up onto his knees and pulled Roger onto his hands and knees for better access. Roger's bright red cock was now throbbing and dancing in excitement, eager to let go. Brian thrust forward forcefully, almost pushing Roger back down, and adapted a quickened pace, reaching down to touch his lover's cock. He pumped him to a different rhythm than his hips, while his other hand pulled on Roger's blond locks, making the latter groan and pant intensely.

With a few more strokes, Roger was cumming all over Brian's hands in a loud cry. His body shook and quivered, tightening around Brian's length and drawing his orgasm out of him. Brian crumbled on top of the blond as the ecstasy took over him, pumping hot cum into his scorching body.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a continuation of the story, no important details were given in the skippable smut!

The next morning, Roger was setting up his drums in the empty rehearsal room, anxiously waiting for the band members to show up in order to judge his audition. He was crouching behind the kick drum when he heard the door open.

“-and I left through the window!”

“In your underwear?” said a familiar voice that Roger couldn’t quite place.

“What other choice did I have?!” the stranger replied, and they laughed. “But how was your night?”

“Ah not much happened, you know? I just got a pint somewhere.”

“Bollocks! I know that look. You got laid last night! How was it?” Roger’s ears pricked up, and he peeked over the bass drum in an attempt to see the gossiping band members.

The man sighed, running his hand over his face, “Best shag ever.” he said shyly, his voice indicating a smile.

“Who was it? Do I know her?” inquired the other man, excitedly.

“I don’t think so, no. It was… some blond from Polytech.”  he shrugged dismissively.

“Oh my god…” Roger whispered to himself as he put the pieces together.

“Think I could meet her?” The stranger said to whom Roger deduced was Brian.

“I-” Brian stuttered, confidence not as present as it had been the night before. The blond in question took this as a good moment to intervene and stood up from behind the drums.  
  


“Hi, you must be ‘Smile’.” He said, straightened his clothes and finally laying his eyes on the two men. The two tall figures turned towards him and approached him, suddenly aware that he had overheard their conversation. The drummer jumped off the platform and walked over to the two, eyeing Brian carefully to see if he realised who he was. Roger stood in front of the tall, long haired man, and extended his hand to him.

“We are. This is Brian May, guitar, and I’m Tim Staffell, bass.” Tim introduced himself, shaking the shorter man’s hand.

“I’m Roger Taylor…” he smirked, satisfied with the mortified look that now took over Brian’s face, “Polytech.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This took so long to write and I'm not even super satisfied with it, but I'm trying to get somewhere with this.

“Polytech, huh?” Tim asked, throwing a glance at Brian, teasingly. “Have a sister there or something?”  
“I do have a sister, but she doesn’t go there. Still in sixth form.” he said casually, looking past Tim’s shoulder and smiling at Brian.  
The tall man stepped in, panicked,“Anyways, now that the introductions are done, should we get on with the audition?”  
“Sounds good to me! Roger, do you think you’re ready?” Tim asked.  
“Always.” the drummer said, half-running to the drum platform. He couldn’t wait to blow their minds.

As Roger did his last minute tweaking, Tim and Brian walked over to a table, sitting down and whispering to one another.  
“So, a ‘blond from Polytech’, huh?”  
“Shut up, Tim, it wasn’t him.”  
“Sure, and I’m just going to pretend you didn’t turn white as a sheet when you saw him.”  
“Staffell, drop it.” he said sternly.  
“Fine.” Tim laughed, and turned his attention to the drummer.

Brian watched in awe as the young man played. When they asked for a Mitch Mitchell type drummer, they were not expecting such a talented man to show up. He played to the backing track with such enthusiasm and passion, it was almost as if nothing else existed in that moment. Brian’s eyes went blurry, the only thing he could focus on was the way Roger expertly moved his hands.  
“He’s great, isn’t he?” the bassist leaned in. “Should we even bother audition anyone else?”  
Brian didn’t answer, he was transfixed with the talented man in front of him.

As Roger finished playing, he could see Tim and Brian whispering to one another, Tim absentmindedly pointing at Roger for emphasis. The drummer was anxious.  
He was confident in his performance, but God knows who else they had auditioned before him or were about to audition. He racked his brain trying to recall if he had made any mistakes. “I should’ve hit the high hat, not the crash cymbal. Fuck, they probably noticed that too-”  
“Roger? You with us, mate?”  
“Uh yeah, sorry.” he smiled kindly, brushing hair out of his eyes, “Thoughts?”  
“Well, we have a couple more auditions to conduct before we give you our final verdict, so is there any way we can contact you?”  
“Oh yeah, um…” he put his drumsticks away, and walked towards the table, searching his pockets for something to write on. “Got some paper?” he asked Brian, looking deep into his hazel eyes.

Brian took a while to recover from the inquisitive look, and panicking he turned to Tim for help.  
“Nothing, sorry.” he shrugged.  
“Um… here,” he rolled up his sleeve, “You can just write it on my arm.” Brian suggested, inwardly debating whether he was going to be able to handle the short man’s hands on his skin once more.  
Tim handed over the pen, and Roger took it with a thankful nod before inscribing his phone number on the soft skin presented to him.

The way he so gently held Brian’s arm made the guitarist swoon. How could such calloused hands, which were beating the drum skins so aggressively a few seconds ago, be touching his skin in an almost featherlight manner? The soft pressure of the pen reminded him of the way he scratched up and down Roger’s back the night prior. Brian wondered if he had left a mark.

“Alright well, there are a couple more people we’re going to see today, so we’ll give you a call once we make our choice.” Tim’s kind voice snapped Brian out of his reverie.  
The guitarist nodded, “It was lovely meeting you Roger, hopefully we’ll see you around.” he smiled meekly, trying to rid himself of the thoughts of the night before.

Roger bid them farewell and good luck with their search, gathered his things, and walked out of the room. A smile played on his lips as he walked to his university campus, a couple of hours to spare before his first class. That was a weird coincidence, or maybe not?  
“Serendipitous” was the word that came to mind.

\---

It had been a month since Roger had auditioned for Smile, and he still hadn’t heard anything from either of them. He had not once bumped into Brian, despite his constant bar cruising, and was slowly losing hope of ever seeing him again.  
It was one fateful Friday evening when he finally managed to catch a glimpse of the guitarist.

Roger was at his usual post, standing by the bar, drink in hand, when he saw the tall man emerging from the bar doors. Roger sighed, “Oh great!”  
Brian looked… disheveled, to say the least. Clearly, he had been to a bar prior to this one, or perhaps more than one. By now Roger knew he wasn’t going to be in the band, so he resigned to scanning the room for anyone to take his mind off his rejection and the fact that the man who rejected him was right there.

Brian didn't plan on getting this shitfaced tonight but the events of the previous week had rendered him depressed and alone. He needed comfort and figured he might find it at the bottom of a glass. He plopped himself onto one of the available bar stools and called for his order.  
It wasn’t long until he was knocking back shot after shot, his hand always reaching for a new glass. By this point, Roger was alarmed. He had been keeping an eye on him when he noticed his sad demeanor, and this didn’t seem like something Brian did. Sure, Roger barely knew the guy, but he knew the type. “What’s gotten into you, Brian?”

Almost like he had heard him, the guitarist’s head shot up and started perusing the crowd. His eyes meet Roger’s and his face bursts into a smile. “Shit…” Roger thought, he really didn’t want to hear any drunken ramblings about how shit his drumming was right now. He averted his eyes and tried to push away the thought of the drunken man, taking interest instead in the drink he was nursing.

“Hey there handsome!” came in a drunken slur, as Brian stumbled onto the bar stool right next to Roger.  
“Listen, I get it.” the drummer dropped his head and angled it towards the guitarist. “You don’t have to explain yourself.” his lips turned into a tight smile that suggested nothing but resignation. As Brian continued staring blankly at him, eyes completely glassed over, something felt off. “Brian? You alright, mate?”  
The tall man’s ear pricked up and he smiled brightly, “You know my name!”  
“Of course, I do- Brian, what’s wrong with you?”  
“Whaddaya mean blue eyes?”  
“It’s Roger.”  
“Roger… rog… rogie…” he smiled to himself, head lolling side to side.  
“Alright, clearly you’re not all there.” Roger said more to himself, opting against finishing his drink before putting his coat on, “Alright, we’re leaving.”  
“Ooh, are you gonna take me home tonight?” Brian’s drunk attempt at flirting was falling on deaf ears as Roger grabbed his arm to stand him upright.  
“Yeah, I'm taking you home. You're in no state to be left alone right now!” Just as he said this, Brian lurched forward and threw up onto the counter. “As I was saying...” Roger shot a glance to the barman and frowned an apology and left a 10£ note as a tip. He made sure to wipe Brian's mouth before leaning him against his short frame, helping him walk towards the door.

He hailed a cab, and gently sat the tall man down before sliding in next to him. As the car drove, Brian was in and out of consciousness, his head rolling back with his eyes closed before jutting open as if awakening from a nightmare. After a few rounds of this, Roger decided that he'd wake up with a migraine if he continued so he took the tall man by the neck and lowered his head to his lap, Brian's body shifting accordingly, trying to curl his legs onto the back seat of the cramped cab. The driver shot Roger a look through the rear view mirror, clearly thinking something inappropriate was about to go down. Roger simply shook his head and whispered, “Just laying him down so he doesn't throw up.”  
“Alright mate, sorry for the misunderstanding.”  
“It's quite alright.”  
“Is he okay back there?”  
“I'm not sure. He's absolutely pissed but I don't really know why.”  
“Doesn't seem the type?”  
“Nah, from what I know he's quite reserved. Not really the wild type.”  
“Don't know him well, then?”  
“No, we only met once before.” Roger smiled, absentmindedly brushing through Brian's hair. Brian groaned, and the drummer pulled his hand away, thinking he had hurt him. “Sorry.”

The ride continued in comfortable silence, and when they approached their destination, Roger tried to wake Brian up. He started by brushing a hand through his hair, then running it up and down his slim side, occasionally thumbing the hem of his shirt, willing him awake. When Brian rolled over and looked into Roger's eyes, his face was one of pure sadness and longing. He blinked himself awake and attempted a smile when he recognised the blond's face.  
“Roger?” he whispered, voice hoarse from the alcohol and retching.  
“Hey there, Bri.”  
“Where are we?”  
“Where in a cab going to my flat.”  
“Ah...” he said, making an attempt at sitting up. Roger helped him up, gently holding on to his shoulder. The guitarist leaned onto the shorter man's shoulder for support as he blinked in and out of sleep.

Feeling sympathetic, the cabbie offered Roger a helping hand in bringing his drunk mate up to his flat. With an arm around both men, Brian was dragged up two flights of stairs, down a corridor, and into Roger's humble flat. They set him down onto the couch, before walking back to the door.  
“Thanks for the help man.” He shook the man's hand before reaching into his pocket, “And here's your fare.”  
“Thanks...” the man accepted the money, slipping it into his pocket, “Roger, right?”  
“Yeah.” he smiled.  
“I'm George.” he smiled back, balancing from one foot to another, “Listen, this may sound weird, but could I give you my number?” there was a pause, “Just in case you need a ride and you can't find anyone- er... I mean, if you can't find a cab-” he fumbled with his words and Roger chuckled. “You know what? Just forget I said anything, I'm just gonna go.” he tried to leave, but Roger's calloused hands grabbed his wrist.  
“I'd love to take your number, George.” Roger smiled, honesty and appreciation plain on his face. George saw that and handed him his card, smiling shyly.  
“Alright then, uh... thanks, and have a nice evening.” George smiled, and left.

Roger closed the door and leaned his head against it, confused at his most recent actions. His existential spiral was interrupted by a low groan coming from behind him. His head snapped back toward the man who was laying on his couch, scratching his head in pain.  
“Brian, come on.” he stalked towards him, determined to get him cleaned up and in bed.  
Roger extended his hand for the guitarist to hold and pulled him up onto his feet. They hobbled to the bathroom and Roger had Brian sit on the loo while he worked on getting him a toothbrush, a glass of water, a washcloth, and some pajamas. Pajamas that would be much too small, but it was better than nothing.

As Roger helped Brian clean up, thoughts were whirring in his mind.  
“I am dressing and cleaning my month-old one-night-stand, whom I just brought back to my apartment, not before accepting a cabbie's number... What happened to you, Taylor? You've gone soft.” the drummer chastised himself.

\- - -

When Brian awoke, a mild rush of panic came over him. This didn't sound like his room. There was no ticking of the clock he kept on his bedside, no hum of the amplifier he would have been likely to have forgotten to turn off, no cold despite the late-fall weather. Instead the room was quiet and warm. He slowly opened his eyes, hoping whoever owned this house was not beside him.

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. “Thank God.” he said to himself, immediately regretting it when he felt his throat seize, making him cough loudly into the empty room. The irritation of his dry throat brought tears to his eyes, and what appeared to be a woman into the room. He was stunned when light erupted from the open door and recoiled from the explosive sound of it slamming. He shut his eyes and continued coughing as the person ran around the room.  
A glass of cold water was thrust into his hand, and he swallowed the liquid greedily, hoping it would alleviate his painful experience. Brian finished with a loud sigh, “That felt good.” he thought to himself, thinking it was probably better not to speak right at this moment. Especially since there was an unknown person sitting beside him, on an unknown bed, in an unknown room.

The hungover guitarist slowly opened his eyes, and look at the unsuspecting woman.  
The person placed their warm hand on Brian's forehead, presumably to check his temperature, and smiled when he didn't recoil from the touch, instead pushing into it. “Hey Brian, how are you feeling?”  
“Okay, so... NOT a woman.” Brian thought to himself. He cleared his throat and attempted to speak. “I'm alright...” he lied, his voice gravely and painful.  
“Do you know who I am and where you are?”  
“Not my apartment...”  
“That's correct.”  
Brian's eyes opened once more, looking around the room and inspecting the young man's face. He was looking for familiarity, and found it when the man looked down at him with his bright blue eyes and smiled kindly.

“Roger...?”  
“Ringo! You got it.” he chuckled.  
“Don't you mean 'Bingo'?”  
Roger pointed at himself and smiled, “Drummer, remember?” he hesitated for a second, “You do remember, right?” He didn't know whether he was worried that Brian didn't remember due to the alcohol or due to him not making any sort of impact at the audition. Whatever the cause, he was worried.  
Brian attempted a smile, “Of course I remember you. It's kind of hard to forget a one-night-stand turned band member.” he chuckled and immediately regretted it as he lurched forward in another coughing fit. Roger ran off to refill the water, and promptly handed it to him. He rubbed his back until the guitarist felt better. “God... drinking was a mistake.”  
“It usually is.” the drummer chuckled, despite his mind yelling at him 'If drinking is a mistake then Brian must have thought their little sexcapade was a mistake and-'  
“But sometimes it does bring about good things.” Brian smiled, poking Roger in the chest with one long, slender finger.  
“Alright, you cheesy fuck.” he laughed off the comment, very much relieved in his head, “I'm gonna make us breakfast, feel free to join me whenever you feel like it.” Roger got off the bed and headed for the door, “Yell if you need anything.” he smiled and closed the door behind him.

Brian finished the glass of water, and laid his head back down, the difference in altitude giving him a headache. He closed his eyes and cursed the pain.  
“Ugh, never again…” he mumbled to himself.

As Roger was moving about the kitchen, he heard Brian stumble around in his room, clearly not recovering well from his drinking binge.  
“Need any help in there?” the drummer yelled out into the otherwise quiet apartment, stopping his breakfast making.  
“No, m’fine.” Brian responded before a crashing was heard.  
“Are you sure?”  
“Mm hm… just a bit shaky on my feet is all.”  
Roger was tempted to go help but decided that maybe Brian wouldn’t take too well to being babied, so he instead continued frying up the bacon.

Just when Roger finished plating up their food, he heard the still-disoriented guitarist wamble through the door and into the living room. He walked over to the dining table and sat down, defeated in his hungover state, placing his head into his crossed arms.  
Roger came by, depositing a full plate of food in front of him alongside a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin, before sitting in front of him with his own plate and glass.

“What’s… ‘All dead, all dead’?” he squinted, trying to read the words that were scrawled onto Brian’s skin.  
Brian raised his head, face dripping in confusion until his eyes found where Roger was looking and remembered. “Oh well… I guess that kind of goes hand in hand with why in the hell I got so shitfaced last night.” he ran his hand across his face, closed his eyes and quickly downed the aspirin that was offered to him. “My uh… my cat died recently… and um, I don’t know, I guess it upset me more than I thought it would…” he looked down at his hands, scratching at the table absentmindedly, “Sorry, it’s pathetic, I know.”  
“It’s not pathetic. You’re just grieving, in time, it comes to everyone.”  
Brian nodded, wiping a stray tear from his face, “I suppose so…” he sniffled, “But yeah, I was thinking that could make a good song title.” he shrugged, looking up at Roger for the first time since he left the bedroom. His eyes were so blue and rid of any judgement or pity.  
“Sounds promising to me.” he smiled honestly, his eyes twinkling. “Well anyways,” Roger pushed the plate towards the grieving man, “Eat up before it gets cold.”

Brian smiled back, before looking down at the plate, feeling his belly growl. His face immediately fell as he saw the food.  
“Anything wrong?”  
“Um… no, it’s fine.” he said sympathetically before poking around the plate and eating the meat that was offered to him.

As they finished eating, Brian having seemed dissatisfied but not willing to admit it, the conversation had migrated towards what happened the night before.  
“I spotted you at the bar, but you know, since I didn’t get the call, I figured I’d spare myself the pain and just ignore you.” Brian was about to talk but closed his mouth, eager to hear the end of the story first, “But you just kept knocking back drinks and eventually you came up to me and started flirting as if we hadn’t met. You didn’t even know my name.” he said, a slight pang of pain rushing back as he remembered the facts, “I thought that you clearly weren’t in a good state to be left alone, seeing as you also threw up on yourself, so I took you home.”  
“Explains the clothes.” he noted, smiling down at the smaller-than-usual outfit.  
“I helped you wash up, get dressed, and then put you to bed.” he recounted, then rushed to clear Brian’s wandering mind, “But don’t worry, there was no naughtiness.” he chuckled, “Never once saw you without your pants on.”  
“Well…” Brian chuckled, alluding to their previous encounter.  
“Right.” Roger laughed, rolling his eyes.

They fell into a comfortable silence as Roger went around to wash up the dishes. The taller man was replaying what had just been said to him and a question weighed on his mind.  
“Rog?”  
“Hm?”  
“What did you mean about not getting a call?”  
“Well, you know…” he put down the plate he was cleaning, and turned to face the guitarist, “After the audition, I didn’t get any news so I figured I hadn’t gotten the job.”  
Brian’s head fell to his chest, “Ah shit…”  
“No, I mean, it’s fine. I know you were auditioning other people-”  
“No, but-” he sighed, lifting his head, “You got it. You got the job.” Roger deadpanned, confused, “I just… I forgot to call because we were auditioning people until last week, and then my cat died and it just slipped my mind. I’m so sorry.”  
“That’s alright, I… I get it.” he smiled compassionately.  
“So yeah, if you’re still interested, you’re in.” Brian said coyly, feeling very apologetic.

“Alright, cool.” Roger smiled at the shyness, trying to loosen up the mood, and turned back to the dishes. “So… how was breakfast? I know I’m not a chef but I figured I’d prepare something a little special for my guest.”  
“Well um… I-” Brian rubbed at his neck, slightly embarrassed, “I’m vegetarian.” he mumbled, making Roger’s back straighten up.  
“You’re kidding?”  
“No.” his face scrunched up.  
Roger turned to face him and looked absolutely mortified, “I fed bacon… to a vegetarian.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you find the two references to lyrics?  
> I think they're pretty obvious lmao


End file.
